


Sanguine, My Brother (Yaoi)

by TheInfamousYaoiFangirl2002



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Anal, Blood Drinking, Boys Love - Freeform, Dunmer - Freeform, Elder Scrolls - Freeform, Gay, Gay Sex, Gore, M/M, Oral Sex, Swearing, Violence, Yaoi, oblivion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6532354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInfamousYaoiFangirl2002/pseuds/TheInfamousYaoiFangirl2002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fen Venegaris, a Dunmer. Feel the red dripping from my knife, the crimson splattered against my armour, the cardinal pooling under your corpse as you bleed out your lifeblood… and I bring a taste of it to my lips. I suck at summaries. Story is better than the description. PLEASE REVIEW! I’ll write more if I can get at least 10 reviews. Be honest. CONTAINS: Yaoi, blood-drinking, yaoi sex, murder, killing, death, profanity, blood, gore, adult themes, yaoi romance, boy on boy, guy X guy – Lucien Lachance X OC & Vincente Valtieri X OC.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanguine, My Brother (Yaoi)

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter doesn't really contain any of the (anal, gay sex, oral sex) that I mentioned in the description.  
> Next chapter is for that. Please review and tell me what you think, it helps me to write more.

Murder.  
This was what I was born to do. My name is Fen, Fen Venegaris, and I am an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood. You heard me right, I am in the legendary… or should I say infamous little cult of sorts, more akin to a family… a family that kills for money, and to please our dearest Night Mother and Sithis, a great and powerful entity or being. I never was quite sure, neither were any of my brothers and sisters.  
Yes, I was born an only child to two poor parents living in the Imperial City who had to work day in and day out to feed their growing son, but here in the Sanctuary… I have a true family, Ocheeva as more of a mother figure and Vincente Valtieri as more of a father to me despite being over three hundred years old. He has promised me vampirism if I’ve proven my guile and worth, and I have set out to prove it.  
I’ve seen his strength and speed, and I could put it to good, no, better use.  
Now I crouch, hidden behind a building in the cesspool known as Bravil, eyes locked on a shady character that I’d been assigned to kill any way I pleased. Whenever that privilege was given to me, I was thrilled. By my belt was a special dagger, The Blade of Woe, a gift from the Dark Brotherhood’s and the Black Hand’s speaker, Lucien Lachance. It didn’t look like much, but in my hand, it was dangerous. On my back rested a Steel Bow with a whole quiver full of Iron Arrows, ready to pierce and kill.  
As the figure in question walked up the stairs along one crude wooden building, entering a house whilst looking over his shoulder suspiciously, an evil grin split my features. I’ve got you cornered. I snuck up the building, having a close call being almost spotted by a guard on patrol, moving gracefully up the side of the stairs and realising with a smirk that the bastard had locked the door. No problem for Fen the Sneaky. That’s what my Brotherhood sister Antoinetta Marie calls me, that or Sneaky.  
I whipped out a pick, wigging it into place, putting my ear to the door. I heard the tumblers click into place, five in all. Wow, he must have a good reason for locking the door with five tumblers. Nothing I couldn’t handle though, and sooner than I could fire an arrow (which was quick) I had the door open. I ducked behind a dresser, and the fool turned as if he’d seen a ghost. “Hello? Is anybody there? Show yourself!” he demanded fearfully, a silver dagger in his hand. As if that tiny thing could hurt me.  
Now my Blade of Woe could cut you up like an axe through cheese, my friend. After a moment or two of silence, he put the dagger away and knelt by a chest, muttering that he was too jumpy and needed a dose. Dose of what? Medicine? I realised that this poor idiot was a Skooma addict, and I withheld a laugh. Stupid drug, it’s addictive sure, but I’ve never touched the stuff. I’ve got enough on my little plate to worry about without needing some addiction to an illegal drug.  
My mind needs to be clear and empty – so I can fill it with murderous thoughts. Duh.  
As he removed the lid to the little bottle and went to take a swig, back to me, I struck with my dagger, slicing his calf and knocking him to the floor, swiftly dodging a stab from his dagger to the neck, feeling my heart thud like a raging horse as I raised my dark black, red and gold dagger high, grinning like a madman, and plunged it into his heart. An adrenaline rush hit me, and I was laughing quietly, staring at the man’s corpse like a child would stare at a sweetcake.  
I delved through his pockets, finding some gold and you guessed it, some empty Skooma bottles.  
I touched my fingers to his neck, to his pulseline, finding no such pulse. Deader than a doornail. I had done my job, so I stood and stared blankly at the crimson on my fingers and splattered on my chest, blood pooling fast under his head and body, staining his green shirt. The coppery smell, the feeling of the warm wetness as I took off a glove and dipped my fingers in the blood. I was curious, so I brought them to my lips and my tongue graced my digits, taking in the strong coppery flavour and I moaned softly.  
I suppose I was going to be feeding off this stuff sooner or later, so I might as well get accustomed to the taste. So far, it was very… unique, salty and coppery, like the smell of holding a copper coin too long but… in taste form. Hmm, I’d better get back. Vincente was probably waiting for me. I turned, sneaking out the door and slinking out of the city without being seen. As usual. I was headed to the Sanctuary, hidden away in Cheydinhall under the Abandoned house, opening the lid of the Well and climbing down into the darkness for fire’s light to invade it. A Dark Guardian stared up at me dumbly before trudging on aimlessly, and I jumped and landed without a sound on the cold stone floor.  
I looked around, the familiar scent of… home… all around me. This WAS home for me, for a poor Dark Elf like me orphaned at age 15 and left to fend for himself. Lucien saved me in the nick of time, at age 21, where after a fight with drunkards in the Imperial City Market District I was left bruised with broken ribs and blood pooled under my head.  
Here, I’ve got a while before I need to see Vincente, I’ll tell you my story.  
XXX  
It was Tirdas, and midday too. I had gone to the tavern in the Market District, I’d forgotten the name, but I’d gone in for a drink. I looked around, seeing a bunch of people all clad in their fancy clothing and me in my casual sack shirt and leather pants. I wasn’t rich, I wasn’t even going to lie about that… not that I’m bad at lying. I’ve had to lie to get every meal on my plate up to this date. I looked around, seeing people indulging in wines and cheeses and food… food I could never afford even if I sold my soul to the Daedra.  
I went to leave, but bumped into someone and spilt their wine all down the front of them. The cruel eyes of a very tall, very angry Ork met mine, and he snarled “You welp! How dare you spill wine on me! I ought of skin you alive! This silk is priceless!” at me as loud as he could, two other men surrounding me and dragging me outside along with the silk-clad ork with the ugliest hairdo I’d ever seen. The two men held my arms as the Ork threw powerful punches to my gut, my ribs, my face, bringing my face down on his knee and even pulling out a dagger… but the guards caught up and stopped him before he could kill me.  
I knew I didn’t have much longer left in this cruel, unforgiving world, feeling so lightheaded and sore all over my body. All I could feel was pain. Then I blanked out. Fast. I thought I’d died for a second or two.  
Just as I blanked out, I saw a dark hooded figure grinning down at me from the sidewalk. When I woke, I was back at home in bed. My wounds had healed miraculously and my clothes had been patched. I disregarded it but… I’d believe anything at that point. I woke, and after grumbling to myself, went on with my day. Something seemed… off about me that day, I’d admit, but I couldn’t guess what. As I walked down a path to think, I found myself at the Inn of Ill Omen.  
I loved to come here for a drink and a bite to eat, but today, I had come for another reason. I stepped into the homey little inn, seeing the familiar Nord running the bar. A Redguard woman slept upstairs, I knew, I’d met her. Lovely girl. My hand gripped the hilt of my longsword aggressively, and I was a little startled at my action, and removed my hand. I sat down and ordered a drink, seeing an Imperial Legion Forester enter the inn and sit down across from me. I… felt an odd desire, as if I wanted to close in on him and… and kill him. I was shocked at my morbid thoughts, and declined my drink, realising alcohol wasn’t the best thing for my odd mind.  
After a while, I found my sword unsheathed and gasped. I’d done it without thinking, and instantly put it back. This was becoming too much, and just as I stood the door to the inn opened and three figures stepped in. I turned and saw him. The silk-clad Ork and his two men, an Altmer and another Dark Elf by his side. He hasn’t noticed me, so I turn. Shit. Shit shit shit. He’s found me. Has he come to finish me off? Hasn’t he done enough to me? No, they haven’t. They sat down across from me just as the Forester got up and walked out.  
I felt a tap on my shoulder, the Altmer staring me down curiously “Haven’t we met before? I swear I know you,” he said in a calm voice, but I shook my head as calmly as I could, turning and facing away. That was too close, at least he hasn’t got a photographic memory or else I’d be dead meat. “Oh boss, it’s that welp from the bar!” the Dark Elf beside the Ork cried, standing and pointing to me. I shot a look to the other Dunmer, snarling as I drew my sword in defence. The Ork approached me, beginning to speak “Listen, I’m only going to say this once. I’m-“  
He reached out for me, as if reaching for my throat, and a rage filled me. Controlling me, the rage spread like fire all over my dark blue skinned body, into each fingertip, my already red eyes reddening. I was so angry and venegeful, the emotions seemed alien to me. I was no violent soul, but now, I was so angry that I’d forgotten where I was and I plunged my sword right into the Ork’s gut, right to the hilt. I roared in anger, turning to his comrades, seething angrily “YOU two helped him! I’ll kill you!” I screamed, rushing the Dark Elf first. He deserved to die.  
He dodged my blow, being very agile and a little too thin to be considered manly, and whipped out a dagger. He struck my arm, but I knocked it out of his hand, tripped him over and sliced his head clean off… except for the pool of crimson blood under his stumpy headless neck. I turned to the tall fair Altmer with a mad grin on my face, chuckling as I stepped forward with my sword and hands tripping in the cardinal lifeblood of the now deceased. “No! I didn’t rat you out! He was forcing me to help him! I would-gahh!” the High Elf cried as I stabbed an arrow from my quiver into his throat and watching him struggle. The owner of the bar was horrified at my actions… and I now had witnesses.  
“I’m sorry, you’ve served me well,” I said as I grabbed a bottle and broke it, slicing his throat and jabbing the neck of the beer bottle into his chest. I thought I’d killed everyone, but then one more person lunged at me and knocked me to my back, sword clattering noisily away from me. It was the Redguard girl with the big fluffy afro “Stop this you madman! You’ve just killed innocent people!” she said, but I had no mercy.  
I don’t know why, but my hand had already grabbed an arrow from my quiver and I plunged it into her eye, sending her staggering backwards and off of me screaming, blood running down her dark skinned cheek. I made a run for my sword, grabbing it and chopping her leg in half, the woman tumbling to the floor as I stood above her raising my shiny, blood-coated steel sword “No witnesses.”  
I ended her life, and for a few minutes I sat in a buzz of sorts, ecstatic about my mass murder… but then the ugly truth hit me. It was a murder. I’d killed people, some innocent even. I’d lost my mind and I’d killed in cold blood, smiling maniacally, but now my face was contorted in horror. But… they’d deserved it. The three had beat the shit out of me over wine, and those two… had done nothing… but why did I feel sound and as if I had done right? I gulped, realising I had to flee. I burst out of the door, sprinting fast down the path and into the trees and grass, getting away from what my mind had caused me to do.  
My psyche had snapped, I was… broken. Killing didn’t seem so bad, and it frightened me a little. I dove for a stream, trying to get the blood off of me. I tore off my shirt and washed it in the stream, the blood on my red leather pants almost invisible. I washed my face and lay on the bank of the river as I watched the stars come out and realised it was night. Bigger creatures come out at night, and it’s more dangerous than traveling by day. But I had bigger concerns, my murder for example. I was tired, very tired, and before I knew it… I was out cold.  
I woke, feeling a foreign touch on my torso and face, waking to a figure looming above me with his black gloved hands caressing my flesh. I leapt to my feet, looking for my sword. Shit, I’d left it at the bar. I met the figure’s cold, greyish green eyes like peridot gemstones. He smiled grimly “You sleep rather soundly… for a murderer…” he purred calmly and lowly, standing confidently yet his face was mostly shadowed… so I couldn’t identify him as any race besides either Bosmer or Imperial. Black hair hung in a loose ponytail out of the robe and a few strands hung loose. Even I had to admit his appearance was quiet… admirable.  
“W-who are you?” I asked shakily, and I was met with a grim smile once again. “I,” he paused “am Lucien Lachance. I am the speaker of the Black Hand and for the Dark Brotherhood. You killed in cold blood, and that is quite wonderful. Five deaths was it? Two apparently innocents? Very good.”  
I was fed up already “What? You’re praising my erm, murders?”  
Lucien nodded “Of course, that is what the Dark Brotherhood is for. Killers like you with no conscience, and you won’t need one for what I’m about to propose.” I was about to protest, but then again… where did I have to go? I couldn’t go home, Guards would be looking for me as well as everyone else. Nice going Fen, you have nowhere to go… and killing did seem fun, no, I’m better than hiding my interest in ending lives at a mere whim. I met Lucien’s gaze and nodded “Go on, please.”  
He smiled “Ah, it’s so refreshing to speak to someone so polite. In the inn you were just in, the place you committed those sweet and relentless murders, sleeps a man by the name… Rufio. He is old and will die soon, and why not let you prove your loyalty by ending the old fool’s life. Here,” the dark figure said, pulling out a dark matte dagger that… that seemed so beautiful, so small yet so dangerous… and handing it to me “Take this BlaDe of Woe, and use it to end Rufio’s life once and for all. Once you have done that, sleep as I had found you, and you shall be welcomed into a new family with open arms.”  
I took the dagger, feeling the lightweight steel in my hand, holding the hilt and swinging it about gracefully, imagining it slicing through flesh and maiming people. The thought brought a grim smile, akin to Lucien’s, to my face. I looked up, expecting to meet his young face again, but no. He was gone. Gone as quickly as I had met him. I sighed, putting the dagger into the sheath I had found on the ground at my feet and placing it to my belt. I grabbed my dried shirt and snuck back in, finding the dead bodies already drenched in flies and horrid smells.  
I held my breath as I snuck down the trap door and into the private quarters, knowing the room on the end that was the only one unlocked would merit me Rufio. I snuck in, quiet as I was wearing no boots or shoes, I was poor, and hid just as the old man closed his eyes. I stood, sneaking quietly as I moved over to him. I noted his appearance. Pale, wrinkly skin with white wiry hair and old clothes similar to the ones I wore… and I almost felt pity on him, until that strange urge filled me again – the urge to kill and become a murderer once again. I unsheathed the knife soundlessly, pinpointing his heart and whispering “Goodbye, old man” before plunging the Blade of Woe deep in his chest to pierce his heart and hear one final cry of agony as he fell limp and lifeless on the bed.  
I checked; nope, no remorse. I kicked his body off the bed and laid down myself, closing my eyes, it being a while before I fell into a deep sleep. I woke almost immediately to a… presence, as if a shadow was following me. I decided to lay still for a while, see if the figure did anything suspicious. A gloved hand, large and obviously belonging to a man, traced my shoulder and down my lean arms, another half-heartedly brushing a single lock of my black hair from my face – to find the blood red eye behind it open and staring at him.  
“Explain yourself Lucien,” I demanded calmly, sitting up. He was looking away from me, but faced me with some blush on his face. “Never mind, now, to a more pressing matter. You have killed Rufio without regret, the deed is done. How do I know this? I know everything, the Night Mother has spoken to me and she welcomes you. Keep the blade I have given you, then please come to the abandoned house in Cheydinhall and go down to the basement, and you will arrive at a large door. You will be asked a question; answer thustly: Sanguine my brother. Welcome to the family.”  
I looked to the blade in my hand for only a second before looking up and finding Lucien gone. Damn it! How does he do that? Never mind. I’ve got this… door to find. He didn’t tell me why, but he just told me to go there. As if I had anywhere else to go to at this point in my life, so I followed his directions and came to the house, lock-picking my way inside and traversing down into the basement. It was dark, dusty and an eerie chime rung out through the silence that had only existed outside of the basement.  
A large smashed out hole in the wall stuck out like fangs on an Ork, and there seemed to be a passageway through it to somewhere. I had to take a leap of faith, and I walked down into the path and followed it, the darkness invaded by a bright red light and the chime becoming almost deafening. I wondered where the light was coming from… but not for long. A large, evil looking door stood before me, easily taller than me by miles, depicting a woman clutching a body and looming over several dull looking people with a dagger.  
I placed my hand to the door, feeling the cool smooth stone-like material… and jumped when a voice asked “What colour is the night?” in a booming voice. What was I supposed to do? Answer it? As far as I know I’ve gone mad, loony, and this is all in my head. I’m probably back home asleep in my bed after the fight. What if I’ve… died? This is hell? No, hell wouldn’t look anything like Cheydinhall. More like Bravil but on fire. That’s all that town needs.  
Then I remembered Lucien’s words after gaping at the door for a while. He’d told me to answer with the words “Sanguine, my brother.” The door opened and I stumbled forward, rolling forward and into a crouch before standing up. Agility was one of my strong points. I looked around, seeing a huge room that I could only describe as… archaic, everything looking so sinister and as if it could jump out and bite you. Even the banners around seemed off, depicting a black hand print on red fabric. My eyes fell forward, and I saw a lady Argonian dressed in black leather with an interesting sheen.  
“Welcome to the sanctuary, dear brother. I am Ocheeva, mistress of this sanctuary. Lucien told me much about you, a cold blooded killer. You will be very welcome into our little family under the watchful eyes of our dear Night Mother. Come, let me show you around” she said, bowing and gesturing for me to follow her. I had no other options at this point, so I obliged her and walked behind her as she lead me around with a few people wearing similar armour glaring me down suspiciously. A lady imperial, a male Ork, a female Wood Elf, another Argonian this time male, a Khajiit that looked at me like I was living shit crawling around and… there was a lumbering skeleton holding an axe.  
He spared me a look, before walking on.  
She showed me around, taking me all around the place she called The Sanctuary, the little tour ending with me being stood in front of two large, imposing and heavy looking wooden doors to a room. Ocheeva placed a gloved hand on my shoulder “Do not fear Vincente, he is… tame, as far as his kind go. He will assign you a contract and you shall fulfil it, such is the way of our order. Come to me if you need anything, and take these” the kind lady offered, holding out a change of the armour and a hood. I took them and nodded, the large doors opening as she walked away. I gulped, stepping into the room and looking around.  
“Ah, you must be Fen. Come, sit, I will not harm you.”  
I turned and saw a strange figure sitting calmly at a table, book in hand, an air of elegance and dangerousness about him like a sleeping bear. I was stunned. His face was slightly wrinkled like that of an older man in his mid-thirties, eyes red and two sharpened fangs poking out from underneath his upper lip. He… he was a vampire. I gulped, frozen in place. I couldn’t believe that I, Fen Venegaris, is in the presence of an undead blood sucker. He chuckled “Don’t worry, the tenets of the Brotherhood come before my own needs as a vampire. Sit, brother, I need to talk to you first. I’ve heard so much about you, Fen.”  
I was honoured, sitting down near him while feeling chills go down my spine. He was intimidating to say the least. “Me? You wanted to meet me? Why me?” I asked, glad my long silky black hair was hanging down either side of my head, hiding my neck behind it’s raven locks. My hair was thick and messy like all Dunmer, but mine was thicker and messier than normal, like two angry Rats had angry sex in my hair.  
That was what someone once told me. Asshole.  
This man, Vincente, smiled “You are an exceptional killer, and I must admit, I didn’t quite believe Lucien when he told me all about you, but here you are. I understand he gave you his Blade of Woe, correct?”  
I nodded “Yes, he did. Why?”  
He continued on “That knife was very precious to him, and he wouldn’t just give it to any old murderer to end a life. He must really like you, and that by itself is quite a feat. He’s… not very sociable, and tends to push people away. You’re lucky, but anyway, I’ll allow you to rest for now. Come to me for a contract, which is work, later when you feel refreshed and rested. I won’t push you, from what I’ve been told you’re a danger with a dagger and sword, right?” Vincente mused, gently scratching his nails against his cheek. They were long and sharp like claws of a predator.  
And that what he was; a predator. But… he didn’t seem as if he would attack me. I stood “T-thankyou Vincente, I-I will” I said, walking out of the room and feeling his gaze on the back of my neck through my hair. I walked through the doors, up the hall and into where I’d first met Ocheeva. I looked around, and felt a hand on my shoulder, turning to see an Ork smiling down at me “Hello! I’d hug you, but Ocheeva told me not to! So I guess you’re looking for where you sleep from now on, brother?” he grinned, making me have a PSTD moment. Orks weren’t exactly on my good side, but he seemed nice. I nodded “I am, do you know where it is?”  
He nodded, grabbing my arm and dragging me through two large wooden doors and into a smaller room filled with beds and chests. There was even two tables and many, many plates of food and wine. Just like at the bar, all the fancy food smelt amazing… and I was starving. “Well I’ll let you get settled in brother a-and maybe we can go killing on a contract together!” he said, trudging off in his steel armour with his war hammer by his side. I looked around, rushing to the table covered in fancy foods, grabbing bread and cheese and stuffing them into my mouth hungrily, chewing barely before gulping them down with a chalice of spring water by the plates, pouring myself another from the jug in the centre of the table.  
Grabbing a fistful of grapes and scarfing them down, I was too busy eating to notice someone sneaking up behind me. “Hungry, are we?” a smooth Imperial bordering Bosmer voice purred from behind me, turning with a strip of meat sticking out of my mouth as crumbs dotted my shirt. It was Lucien, and he sat beside me at the table “It’s ok, you’ve been through a lot today, eat as much as you like.”  
I smiled, gulping down the meat and dusting myself off. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten a decent meal in a year.”  
The dark haired man beside me smiled fondly, picking up a chalice of water and sipping it tentatively. He pushed his hood back, his shiny black hair like mine but done back in a long ponytail, fair skin with such beautiful brown eyes closed, thick lashes against his lightly hollow cheeks as he drank. Forget Vincente being beautiful, Lucien was a god in comparison despite being… mortal I guess? His beauty was almost double, his thin body only adding to his illuminative presence. W-what? No, I can’t be falling for him! I’ve only just met the man!  
A-and he wouldn’t feel that way about me, a peasant turned killer. I looked to the armour I had been given and then to Lucien who had picked up a small wedge of cheese to nibble, standing up “I’m going to try on the armour Ocheeva gave me, would you um…” I began asking him to leave so I could have privacy but… he stood with a fire burning in those brown eyes like chocolate. “Of course dear brother, even at our level of kinship I would consider this acceptable… so long as I don’t have to be gentle with you…” Lucien said lowly, dangerously and quietly as he advanced on me.  
W-what? What did he mean?  
I soon found out as my back met the wall, and both of his hands pinned me there, a momentary look shared between us before he leaned forward and claimed my lips in the most passionate kiss I’d ever had… and it was the FIRST kiss I’d ever had. His lips tasted a little like the cheese he’d nibbled, but majorly like cinnamon, as if he’d eaten a billion cinnamon rolls in a row prior to this. I couldn’t move; I was frozen in a trance of sorts, unable to act, unable to move unless it was what this tall, dark and very handsome stranger wanted me to do.  
“L-Lucien…” I groaned against his lips, smooth and full and plump. He pulled away and I glared at him “That was my first kiss you bastard…”  
His eyes widened “First kiss? You’re serious? Well, that’s even better… now… have you ever made love before?”  
I shook my head and he raised a brow, thinking. “How about… have you been pleasured by another person before?”  
Another shake of my head.  
“Now this is a must, have you ever pleasured… yourself?”  
Why was he asking me all these sexual questions? I shook my head, being honest. Life had been empty for me, so I hadn’t the time to stroke off like most men my age and older. He gaped at me, smirking “Hmm, for a killer you are rather innocent, aren’t you?” he asked knowingly, stroking my cheek as he raised a hand and magic surrounded my wrists, binding them to the wall by some invisible force, as if my wrists had been nailed to the wall one over the other. By the Nine, he wasn’t going to… to… do what I think he was… was he?  
After our lips met once more in a passionate dance, his softer ones kissing down my neck where his hands tore open my shirt easily since it was made from sack or hessian, hot breath huffing out over my bared virgin torso. My body jerked when his warm lips and tongue grazed over one of my nipples, and he continued kissing down my chest and flat stomach to my waist where he began to yank down my leather pants but… the door to the room opened with heavy footsteps clunking fast towards us. Before I knew it I was free, a healthy blush on my dark cheeks, shirt torn open. The Ork I’d met earlier came into view with an eager smile on his face “Fen! That’s your name! Ocheeva told me! Also some traders are moving through the woodlands and it would be the perfect chance to kill some people together! What do you say brother?”  
I looked to him smiling widely, gulping “Just let me get changed into the armour… mister?”  
“Gogron, Gogron gro-Bolmog. But leave out the mister part, makes me sound old. I’ll wait outside the door for you! Oh I’m so excited to have a brother to kill with! Don’t get me wrong, Teinaava is a great hunter… but a little less fun. I can’t wait!” Gogron said, waving goodbye as he jogged out of the room. I sighed once he was gone, turning to the armour on the table. I was scared that Lucien was going to pounce on me once I was nude, but I had to put on the armour or I’d seem… rude.  
I almost cursed at my torn shirt, but realised I’d no longer need it, tossing it aside and removing my shoes and pants and moving to the unique Shrouded Armour and Shrouded Hood, putting the armour on and feeling a power flood my body that I savoured sweetly and hungrily. After putting on the hood, the whole armour was an absolute perfect fit, moulding to my body but making me as limber as if I was nude. I crouched, drawing my dagger. This would be wonderful. I rose, pocketing the Blade of Woe and seeing something on one of the beds. It was a shiny Steel Bow with a quiver of Iron Arrows.  
I reached for them, and a presence behind me spoke “Take these, my dear Dunmer. They are yours now, once belonging to our own Telaendril before she found better equipment. Consider them a gift.” Lucien’s voice sounded close, and I spun to find nobody there… in the room at all. I almost cursed, thinking I had gone mad, but I picked up the bow and slung the arrows over my shoulder anyway, walking out. I had traders to kill with my new brother.  
XXX  
Stepping up to Vincente’s room I shoved the doors open, waltzing in and bowing to the vampire I’d come to respect and not fear in the slightest. “The job… is done,” I smiled, and a small pouch filled with gold made its way into my palm of Vincente’s doing. “Well done Fen, another contract fulfilled magnificently I must say. You’re doing well, and just might earn a little bonus” he said, eyeing my neck. My hair was done up in a ponytail like Lucien’s, and my neck was bared either side, but I wasn’t frightened of this old bat.  
Maybe today was the day I’d earn vampirism. Finally, the day I’d become immortal and live forever with such prowess and magnificence. I grinned “Is today the day, Mr Valtieri?” I posed, rocking backwards and forwards on my heels. I was met with a comical look, and a sigh “Impatient are we? But I guess… maybe you have earnt my respect and you might just join me as a hunter of the night, becoming one with the shadow. But there are rules, remember the tenets dear Fen?” he asked, and I nodded.  
“Never dishonour the Night Mother. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Never disobey or refuse to carry out an order from a Dark Brotherhood superior. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Never steal the possessions of a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis, and finally Never kill a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Am I right?” I asked, earning a confirmative nod.  
He almost circled me as if… he was hunting me like a wolf eyeing off a bunny minding its own business not aware of the danger it was in. Am I the bunny? Vincente is certainly the wolf in this situation, those bloody red almost Dunmer eyes locked on my genuine and naturally red ones hungrily, as if a cold hand was reaching into my chest searching for my soul, clawing at my torn and broken psyche with numb hands. I gulped, my fear arising. His nostrils flared. He could smell my fear. It was thick in the air for once.  
“Yes, you are dear Fen. Quite right. Now, lay down on my sleeping slab over there and when you wake… you will be just as I am, but if you do not feed within three days you will revert back to being non-vampiric. The first time you feed, your fate is sealed. There is no such cure, not that I know of. Now sleep, my dear Fen” his smooth voice crooned, and I nervously removed my hood and laid back against the uncomfortable solid stone slab. Urgh, how could he sleep against something so… so stony and hard? It made my teeth hurt.  
I closed my eyes, finding sleep quiet easily from practice, and falling into deep sleep.  
Not too long after, as I opened my eyes and met the ceiling. Then someone stepped into view, and I met two beautiful coco brown eyes looking worried. “Are you alright dear brother? Fen?” Lucien’s voice asked, and once my vision cleared I met his genuinely worried face. I groaned, feeling a pain in my neck on the left side and sitting up. “Ouch, I feel… dizzy… and woozy, but I’m fine actually…” I said, bringing a hand to my neck and feeling something, removing my glove and feeling two puncture marks on my neck. I’d been bitten, obviously.  
“Good,” Lucien said, sitting on the slab beside me “I’d be worried if else.”  
I looked to Vincente, smiling at me “Welcome to the land of the undead, Fen. Feeling… thirsty at all?” he asked me sincerely, arms folded as he leaned against the wall. A strange… urge filled my body, and I found myself licking my lips thirstily, looking at him nodding affirmatively. He smiled “Lucien here should be your first feeding, after all, first feeding seals your fate as a vampire… and Lucien is rather special to you, isn’t he? Don’t worry, it won’t turn him. Only old vampires such as myself can do that.”  
Lucien stood “Are you mad? I was angry enough that you’d gone and turned him into one of your own kin without even talking to me! I’m the one who found him after all, a-and why me? Why not some beggar?” he asked Vincente, obviously mad and kind of possessive. There’s nothing wrong with him being possessive, but dial it down a notch Lucien, I don’t belong to you.  
The other vampire in the room took on a frown, as if scolding a child. “Lucien, it was his choice, I merely gave him what he deserved.”  
“What he deserved?!”  
Now the shit has hit the ceiling. I tried to block out the two’s arguing, but found the buzz in my throat too powerful and demanding to ignore. I stood, ambling to the door on numb legs and shoving it open with much more strength than I knew I had, realising my vampirism was setting in. I had to find blood, and since there were so many beggars in Cheydinhall, it’d be easier than finding a Nord in Skyrim. I had only gotten out of the door before I felt Lucien grab my arm and hold me in place “Where do you think you’re stumbling off to?”  
I growled, taking back my arm “If you won’t be my first feeding, then I’ll go find some lowlife beggar to do it. I chose this Lucien, it’s not Vincente’s fault… so stop being so… so childish. Just accept the fact that I’ve wanted to become a vampire ever since I’ve joined the Brotherhood, I’ll stay alive forever so long as I feed and avoid the sun and silver and the churches… and other people… but in my line of work for our dear Night Mother, killing will only coincide with my feedings. I shall wound, then feed, then kill and dispose of them! Like I already do! If you don’t like this… too bad. This is my life, and you don’t control me!” I said, walking off.  
Just as I reached the door, Vincente reached me and stopped me “Stop, I forgot to inform you that the sun is rising. As a newborn vampire, you’re bound to make mistakes, and I shall take you under my wing and become not only a family member, but your mentor. Will you accept my offer, Fen? You are reborn, your past no longer defines you” he said, sounding too poetic and much like a bard I’d heard once in the Talos Plaza. Reborn? I guess I had given up my past life and mortality once I’d accepted this whole vampiric thing, so I looked to the vampire who had turned me and nodded “I will. But, what is there to learn?”  
A smile met his face and Vincente walked me back to his quarters at the very furthest reaches of the Sanctuary. I didn’t see Lucien, and I wondered where he’d wandered off to. He always does that, talks to me then vanishes without a trace. It’s annoying to say the least. “Now,” Vincente began, sitting down at the table in his crumbling apart room “I shall only run you over the basics, then we shall go out together and hunt. Are you ready?”  
“I’ve been ready my whole life, Vincente.”


End file.
